


Game Night

by Mouse9



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Gen, community: troupe_bingo
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-01
Updated: 2013-05-01
Packaged: 2017-12-10 01:34:20
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,043
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/780243
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mouse9/pseuds/Mouse9
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Even Dean needs someone to hold him up and smack him around when he's not taking care of himself.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Game Night

 

   Not that he would ever admit it –ever- to anyone because there was never anything good about Dickless and his hoard of Leviathan, but in a deep hidden part of the back of his brain he tried not to acknowledge lay the thought that had it not been for Dick Roman being a huge, well, dick and trying to eat the world one burger at a time, he never would have met Charlie Bradbury who had turned out to be one of the few bright spots in his life. 

Their connection was almost instantaneous; they shared some of the same traits, maybe not the good ones, and an appreciation of Scarlett Johansson.  It was Sam that mentioned in passing one day that she could pass for a female him.

And just as they’d opened her word, maybe not in a good way, she’d opened theirs as well.

Charlie was the reason Dean had discovered he was a closet gamer.

   It had started with Moon Door, the LARP where Charlie was hailed as Queen, and continued to her nightmare video game of zombie super soldiers.  It was also because of her that he and Sam had discovered they were completely untraceable in the bunker.  They could make a phone call, access Wi-Fi and never be traced or tracked.  The bunker was a virtual 20 mile circumference black hole.  Which meant getting onto servers was as easy as pie.

It started innocently enough; she’d emailed him a link on the laptop.  Since Sam was sleeping off the latest bout of trails illness, Dean had nothing to do, so he clicked it.  The link led to a bouncing server and a first person shooter game called “End of the Line”.

It was a cheesy, easy, stupid zombie game and once he figured his way around the controls, he fell in love with it.  A way to keep up his skills that didn’t involve facing actual evil or dying in real life.  He was hooked five minutes into the game.  Ten minutes in, Charlie called his cell and they spent the next two hours shooting zombies and talking.

Three days later, a package arrived for him as one of their mail drop offs.  Inside were a headset and a web address with a note attached. 

            **Thursday 9pm CST**

Sam raised a questioning eyebrow but never said anything.  From then on, Thursdays at nine pm became his down time.  His sanctuary.

 

* * *

 

   He tried to make it every week, especially as it grew closer to the final trial.  Sometimes he wouldn’t make the appointment and on those weeks all he had to do was text her and she’d set up a time.  As Sam worsened, they played more than once a week but Thursday night was always his constant.  His port.  A chance to not think of anything in his real life: Sam getting worse with the possibility of him not making it, Castiel flaking out, Kevin’s disappearance along with the missing tablets.

For at least two hours a week, he was free.  Free from worries, free from responsibility, the only thing he had to think on was getting his kill count higher that Charlie’s so he could finally gloat.

Finally, the trials were over and they had won…sort of.  Sam was in a coma and Castiel was in Heaven trying to find a cure because Dean was sure the hell not going to lose his brother after everything.  Winchester’s always came back.

 

   Dean sat in the chair next to Sam’s bed watching the young man sleep.  He wasn’t about to keep him in a hospital where anyone could get him-when his phone beeped.  He pulled it out and looked at it.

           **Come open the door, this crap is heavy!**

He hurried to the front door and opened it, revealing Charlie laden with bags and boxes.

“Hey bitches.” She said as he grabbed some of the boxes and let her in.

“Charlie, what are you doing here?”  He asked, leading her down the stairs towards the kitchen.  “Not that I’m not glad to see you, but-is this pie?”

“Hells yeah, you think I’d let down my brother in arms?” she quipped, placing the bags and boxes on the counter space.  “Look, I can’t find the cure for Sam, so I brought the next best thing, pie and me.  Because, you know, pie always comes first.”

He pulled a fork from the drainer and opened the box, digging out a piece and popping it into his mouth.  His knees almost went weak.

“Ohhhh,” he moaned.  “I think I love you.”

She grinned, putting up the supplies.  “I know.”

He ate in silence while she finished her chore.

“So, what brings you into town?”

“I read about some strange things going on a couple of weeks ago and just knew.  So I trucked out here, learned to say ain’t and came to find you.”  She twisted off a beer cap and handed him the bottle.  “You’ve got so much on your shoulders to deal with so I came to deal with you.  Please, let me help.”

He watched her silently as he took a drink.

“I don’t like asking for help.”

“You aren’t asking, I’m telling you to shut up and I’m taking over.  Deal with it.”

He chuckled.  “You’re bossy.”

“And you love it.  So, catch me up.  What’s been happening?”

 

* * *

 

Hours later, Dean left Sam’s room, looking haggard.  He found Charlie sitting at the huge conference table setting up her laptop.

“What are you doing?”

She looked up at him and smiled.  “It’s Thursday night.”

And just like that, he felt some of the tension release from his shoulders.

“Charlie, I don’t know…”

“You need it.  Now log and let me school you in killing zombies.”

He gave her a wry grin as he turned on the laptop. 

“You wish.”

“I am Queen of the zombie killers, baby.”

“You wish.”

“All I hear is talk, let’s see what you’ve got, my young apprentice.”

Logging on, he loaded the game and set the headsets aside.

The two shared a look over their laptops before the game started and Dean was allowed another night of blissful peace where he could kill pretend monsters and forget real life for a time.

**Author's Note:**

> I love Charlie. And I love her and Dean's bromance.   
> This satisfies the bingo space: Game Night


End file.
